Teaching the Masters

How Kenyan runners became an important part of the Japanese system

When Sammy Wanjiru won Kenya's first Olympic marathon gold medal two years ago he also became the latest news in a 20-year trend: Every Kenyan man who has won an Olympic marathon medal has been based in Japan. But for every Wanjiru, Eric Wainaina or Douglas Wakiihuri there have been dozens of athletes, male, female, Kenyan, Ethiopian, Moroccan, South African, Tanzanian, Burundian, even a Canadian, who have come as student runners or pros in Japan's jitsugyodan corporate team system to be ekiden ringers and training partners, to learn, and above all else to make the money necessary for a better life. Some, like Wanjiru, have earned fame, but most go on in relative anonymity. Who are they? How did they get there? What are their lives like?

The story began in 1983 with a teenaged Wakiihuri, who was determined to find a way out of Kenya at a time when Kenyan running had not yet become the basic currency of the sport. Through his training partner, Wakiihuri had heard that Shunichi Kobayashi, a Japanese writer in Kenya, had contact with Kiyoshi Nakamura, the legendary coach of marathon great Toshihiko Seko. Kobayashi helped him meet Nakamura at a training camp in New Zealand, where Nakamura saw Wakiihuri's potential and created a place for him on the S&B jitsugyodan team. The rest is history: Wakiihuri progressed under Nakamura's guidance, and at the 1988 Olympics in Seoul finished second – seven places ahead of Seko – to become Kenya's first Olympic marathon medalist.

The door had cracked open. Tsutomu Akiyama, a senior coach with the elite Yamanashi Gakuin University ekiden team, worked with Kobayashi to bring Kenyans to bolster YGU's roster in 1988. "Our first runners were Joseph Otwori and Kennedy Manyisa," recalls Akiyama. "We felt it was important to have two; one who was exceptional and one just a little better than our Japanese runners. They would keep each other from becoming homesick and the faster one would help the team in races. The other would give the Japanese runners a reachable target. We went from 11th before Joseph and Kennedy to seventh their first year, then fourth, second, and first. Their being here raised our own level."

Akiyama's next recruits were for YGU's prep high school. Today a Japanese citizen, head coach at Sozo Gakuen University and mentor to other Kenyans in Japan, Stephen Mayaka (pictured) was the first Kenyan high school runner in Japanese history. "It was difficult at first," Mayaka admits. "The language and the food were hard, and I'd never experienced winter. The school was out in the country, too, and in those days people weren't used to seeing a black man. Children would run away and people would panic when I came into a shop. But once they started seeing me in magazines and on TV they said, 'Oh, this is the person we see around here!' and got used to me."

With the success S&B and YGU had with their early Kenyan runners, other teams wanted their own Kenyans to help win the year-end national championship ekidens and to train with their teams. Kobayashi and Akiyama became go-to people for recruiting, regularly attending youth races in Kenya and holding time trials to help locate new talent. Akiyama formed a steady relationship with Kiomiti High School in Kenya's Kisii district, which produced a succession of top runners. Others followed suit in becoming scouts, and some Japanese teams began to look anywhere top talent could be found. Ethiopia, Morocco and South Africa were some of the most obvious places. Biruk Bekele was one of the first Ethiopians to be recruited, inheriting a position with Tecmo in 1994 after a countryman's tenure ended. Biruk won the 1996 Hokkaido Marathon and helped make a name for Ethiopians alongside the Kenyans in Japan. Following his retirement he became active as an agent, building opportunities for other Ethiopians to follow him to Japan. "There are now six Ethiopian athletes in Japan," says Biruk, "and the opportunities are increasing."

Compared to the six Ethiopians, there are roughly 90 Kenyans in Japan, five or six each at high schools and universities and the rest with jitsugyodan teams. Mayaka attributes the heavy tilt in favor of Kenya largely to the English language. "Nobody coming here speaks any Japanese," he says. "Kenyans speak English and can at least communicate with their coaches and teammates. The Moroccans and Ethiopians can't do that, and the South Africans wanted to do their own training and didn't fit in. Japanese teams want ability and ease of communication, so they come to us." Akiyama agrees. "We're not necessarily looking for the fastest person. Samuel Wanjiru and Mekubo Mogusu (pictured above) weren't the fastest when we found them. We look for someone smart and adaptable who wants to learn and isn't motivated just by money."

That said, if recruited by a jitsugyodan team, Africans can make good money. Runners receive a base salary with bonuses for PRs and wins, especially in the championship ekidens. They may train apart or with the Japanese members, but they receive guidance and advice from their team's head coach. At the pro level foreign runners may have work obligations like their Japanese teammates, "If," laughs Mayaka, "they know how to do anything."

"Athletes don't have to go to Europe to find top-level racing," says Biruk. "Last year there were guys running 26 for 10,000m and 2:05 for the marathon here. It's just as good as anywhere." Mayaka believes the financial side of things is actually better. "A lot of guys want to go to Europe, make money on the circuit and be known all over the world, but you never know what could happen," he says. "You might run your best and finish 11th and earn nothing, and even if you do get something it goes through an agent first and comes to you 15 percent less. Here, you run, you get paid, and anytime you want money you go to the ATM, and there it is. Even when you're injured you get paid time off so there's no worry about ending up zero."

Beyond the money, Mayaka is adamant about the value of an education. "I'm always telling young runners, 'Your pro career can end any day, and then what are you going to do with your life? Pick up the language and some skills while you're here, then when you go back to Kenya you can be somebody in your community.' Akiyama told me the same thing, and it was good advice."

Akiyama himself thinks this path also benefits an athlete's development. "We want them to take their time. Wanjiru may have gone straight from high school to pro but that's the exception. Few people can do that successfully. It's better to spend a few years maturing, learning and developing." Foreign student runners are genuinely students, not paid professionals in disguise. They receive tuition, housing, meals, assistance with learning Japanese and maybe a small allowance, but they attend classes, study and graduate like everyone else.

It's not a perfect world. Some recruiters essentially leave athletes to fend for themselves or replace them within months if they don't begin producing results. Last year, former Nagoya Half Marathon course record-holder Simon Maina was arrested on immigration charges and deported after losing his team spot due to injury. Wysela Wylim disappeared from Toyokawa High School after helping win the 2008 National High School Girls Ekiden. But in many cases, says Mayaka, the athletes can blame themselves. "Some people come here, don't listen to what we tell them, don't respect the rules and just behave like they do in Kenya. When they get in trouble they make up stories and blame the Japanese."

Overseas agents may be one of the biggest threats to the system. Japan-based Africans having some success are often approached during their trips back to Ethiopia or Kenya. With talk of big money in a European or American race, such agents may sign the athletes to a contract that conflicts with their Japanese team's existing contract. The result can be complex clashes among the athletes, Japanese coaches, Japan-based agents, overseas agents and the always-zealous national federations.

Another major threat comes from within the Japanese system. In 2008 organizers changed the stage lengths for the men's and women's national championship pro ekidens. Non-Japanese runners were restricted to the shortest stage in each event, 8.3K for men and 3.3K for women versus 22.3K and 11.6K for the top Japanese men and women. The nominal reason for this change was to reduce the advantage held by teams that could afford an African, but it also means TV broadcasters can minimize airtime showing Japanese athletes being outrun. Combined with the economy, there is now little reason for teams to hire foreign women. "Even [1:07 half marathoner] Philes Ongori can't make up enough time over 3.3 kilometers to justify her expense. This is going to be the end of African women in Japan," says Akiyama, "and that's going to hurt the level of our own women."

As a rare naturalized citizen, the situation stings deeply for Mayaka. "You don't go to America and hear, 'You're Japanese, you can't run this race,' he fumes. "It's inhuman. I walk down the street and Japanese people come up and ask me, 'Stephen, why are they doing this? We want to enjoy real racing.' They're mistreating the fans as well as us." Akiyama echoes Mayaka's sentiments. "The broadcasters and those in power want to show that Japanese running is strong, but people know it isn't real without foreign competition. It's damaging the sport's popularity and the competitiveness of our runners."

Despite the problems, at least on the pro men's side the opportunities are still there. Teams still want the advantage an African brings, and the "training target" role Akiyama describes is still important; Sammy Wanjiru spent his last few months in Japan before the Beijing Olympics pacing his teammate Yu Mitsuya, a 27:41 10,000m man, to try to get an Olympic "A" standard. For all that Wanjiru, Wainaina, Wakiihuri and others have learned about training, discipline and gaman – the prized trait of calm endurance – Japanese runners have equally benefited by having foreign runners to measure themselves against. "All the gains Japan has made in the last 22 years have been because of us," says Mayaka. "They need us."